Of Blankets and War
by Harmonics
Summary: Even after more then 100 years after the war, Arthur still wasn't sure who had given him that blanket.  AmericaxEngland get's a little suggestive towards the end.


Umm, so this is my first Hetalia one-shot… I got really bored and I thought, huh, why not haha. Umm… also It's my first anything that goes into so much detail which is… ugh. Haha. Suggestions for the future would be loved, but please no flamers.

Warning: Not hard-core sex, but it's gets a little descriptive for like… one paragraph *shot*

Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia, although I wish I did…

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Well, this was just great. Arthur didn't know how long he had been kneeling there in the mud with the rain pounding overhead, but he was shivering now. Everyone was gone. Everyone, even… him. Arthur wasn't quite sure how he had lost this war. He wasn't even quite sure how he had gotten into it. He was just trying to protect him. Protect him from the outside world, protect him from those who would do more then just tax him to high hell.

Arthur let out a bitter laugh, well wasn't this ironic. The one person he would gladly give his life for, his everything, his little star, was the one to turn on him in the end. His eyes started to close slowly, he was tired. He was emotionally tired. He didn't want to be awake for this anymore, so he let sleep take him over.

Alfred wasn't sure why he stuck around. Well, not exactly around, but it had been almost three hours later and here he was still standing under the tree watching Arthur lay in the mud some distance away from him. Alfred had started to worry he might be dead, but he saw him twitch every now and then, so that fear had been dispelled. Alfred wrapped his arms around him tightly, trying to keep in any warmth he could. If he was getting wet standing under this tree, he couldn't imagine how wet and cold Arthur was getting. He scoffed, he wasn't supposed to care about Arthur. Still, he hadn't moved for a while now. What if he was going to get Hypothermia? Alfred panicked. Maybe he and England hadn't seen eye to eye, but he hadn't hated him. Turning on his heel, Alfred ran off in the other direction.

Arthur wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but he was looking up into a brightly lit sky now. He was still a little wet, but for some reason, he wasn't cold anymore. Sitting up he saw the reason. The wool blanket fell off of his shoulders and onto his lap. He picked it up slowly examining it. He hadn't heard anyone walk up to him during the night. He was sure he would have heard something. Looking back on it now though, he was so tired he probably wouldn't have noticed if herds of animals had come stampeding by him.

The blanket itself was nothing special. A little longer then himself it was pretty simple. It was a navy blue, with white stars sown into it in random places. It had fringe going around the outside of it that was red. Where had he seen this before? It looked oddly familiar. It looked like it had been done by an armature, someone who was just learning how to sew.

Still, the fact that someone had cared enough to give him a blanket in the middle of the night. He would have much rather been carried off to an inn, but he supposed his bright red uniform kept anyone from doing that. Not that he blamed them, he was the enemy after all. England sighed, he picked up the poorly made blanket and folded it. He didn't suppose whoever had given it to him would come back for it, so he stuffed it into his pack, and took off towards the harbors.

"IGGY!" Alfred yelled as he burst through the doors of the English manor.

England, who was currently drinking his afternoon tea, and trying to knit a scarf jumped in surprise, dropping his tea, and the knitting needles on the floor. It took him a second before he realized what had just happened. Well, who had just happened.

"Alfred F. Jones, I swear on the Queen's noble name, if you do not clean this up now, I will strangle the last breath out of you." Arthur narrowed his green eyes dangerously at the blond haired boy.

"Oh… hey sorry Iggy I didn't mean to cause a mess." Alfred rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"It's Arthur you deft fool and you never mean anything you do." Arthur mumbled the last part as he stood up and grabbed the knitting materials off of the floor and stuffed them back into the drawer they had come from.

"Um, yeah. Sorry Artie," Alfred tried apologizing again as he picked the fragile tea cup up off of the floor.

"It's not Artie," Arthur started to correct him, but he just let out a heavy sigh and let it go. It wouldn't do any good. He couldn't remember the countless times he had corrected Alfred on the uses of nicknames only to have it go right over his head, "go occupy yourself while I clean this up." He glared over his shoulder at the boisterous blond.

"Right… okay. I'll just go look around your library." Arthur was going to make a remark about how Alfred shouldn't bother trying to read now, but he was already half way up the stairs, and he probably wouldn't have listened to him anyways.

Arthur sighed, he had been doing that a lot, sighing that is. It had seemed that Alfred had taken to bothering him quite a bit lately. He looked up at his ceiling.

"Dear God, what have I done to deserve this?" Arthur asked pleadingly, he scoffed, it wouldn't help any. It seemed like whatever higher power was up there, they enjoyed his misery. After scrubbing all the mess out of his carpet, Arthur returned the dish rag to the kitchen sink and went off to find Alfred.

Really, what had he done to deserve any of this? All he had ever done was spoil the imbecile countless times and showered him with affection, and how was he repaid, by a revolution. The boy had been so cute as a child, always telling Arthur he was the best big brother ever.

There was a sudden rush of blood to Arthur's cheeks. He felt guilty when he thought of the words brother and Alfred in the same sentence. Especially since what he felt towards the younger man now was anything but brotherly love. He wondered when that had happened. He sifted through his memories trying to pin down the exact date. He supposed it had been sometime around the second World War.

Francis, and himself had been hit hard already, of course they had a little more help then just the two of them, but it looked like they were going to loose the war any month now. And then the unthinkable had happened. Japan had bombed Pearl Harbor.

He hadn't though anyone would be so stupid as to provoke Alfred. The boy really didn't like war, he'd found that out during the first World War, but if he needed to, he would fight. Arthur shuddered thinking about it, he'd never thought Alfred could be so… terrifying. Or deadly.

Alfred had immediately joined the Allied forces against Japan, Germany, and Italy. It was really the only logical thing to do. Arthur still remembered when Alfred had walked into the meeting room that day. He'd heard about the bombing, but things had been so awkward between the two of them last time, he hadn't called to check on him at all.

His hair was poking out in funny places due to a white bandage wrapped around the side of his head. He had a few stitches above his right eye, while the left one looked like it had been bloodied and a large bruise had settled into the skin. Not only that, but his eyes themselves looked like they had settled into a dull grayish blue instead of the bright sky color they had always been. In other terms the blond haired boy, because that was what he had been at the time to Arthur, looked like he had gone through hell and back.

At the time Arthur hadn't thought anything but pity for the boy. He really shouldn't have been drug into this war like that. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid when he tried to keep him as his colony.

But then, they were alone together in Africa, trying to keep Italy in check. Alfred had gone off to wash up, and was taking forever, so Arthur, being the wonderful person he was went to go check on the boy. When he found him, it was not exactly what he had been expecting. He was stark naked, washing every nook and cranny of his body. Arthur's cheeks flushed bright red. Alfred was defiantly not a boy anymore, that much Arthur was sure of. And not only was he not a boy, he was a damn fine looking man.

Arthur remembered running away very quick, after he took one last look, to make sure he was okay of course. That night, Arthur's tent had been destroyed, and Alfred had insisted on them sharing. Normally the proximity wouldn't have bothered Arthur, but he found he wasn't able to sleep the entire night. That and every time Alfred would move a leg or an arm would brush up against Arthur's leg or arm or neck, and shivers would be sent through his body.

Ever since then Arthur had been covering up his attraction to the young American by acting grisly towards him every chance he had gotten. He supposed it was his defense mechanism against his obvious love for the man. That, and even if he had confessed to Alfred, nothing but a big laugh would come from the blonde's mouth. Now in an even worse mood, Arthur climbed the rest of the stairs.

The door to his library was cracked open a little. He could see Alfred sitting on one of the loveseats next to a rather large end table. In his hands he was holding a blanket. It was wool that had been dyed blue, with white stars sown into it, and red fringe. Arthur smiled, he had kept the blanket in fairly good shape, and although it hadn't been great when he'd gotten it so long ago, it's condition hadn't gotten any worse.

Alfred was sitting there studying it, like he had just seen the most confusing math problem that he couldn't solve. Which was ridiculous because if there was anything Alfred was good at it was math and science.

"I can't believe what an awful sewer I was…" Alfred muttered quietly, but loud enough for Arthur to hear him.

An awful sewer, why would he be worried about his awful sewing now…oh. Arthur's eyes widened. He couldn't possibly mean… That was insane there was no way.

"Man, these stars look like potatoes… I should have had someone help me with it…" Alfred frowned, he traced his fingers over the outline of one of the stars, it's lines were a little off, but otherwise it wasn't to bad.

Arthur could feel his eyes watering. If Alfred had made the blanket… if it had been Alfred's, then there was only one way that Arthur could have gotten it on the battlefield that night. He wiped the big wet tears that were sliding down his face off and opened the door wider to walk in.

"Ar-Arthur!" Alfred looked surprised, and he quickly shoved the blanket behind him, his face getting oddly red.

"I… I hate you." Arthur muttered, his tears not stopping for his sake, of course they wouldn't.

Alfred looked visibly taken back, "Hey, I didn't mean to ruin your carpet…I'll pay for you to replace it."

"I wasn't talking about the carpet you bloody fool!" Arthur yelled angrily.

"I have no idea why you're yelling at me then!" Alfred shouted desperately, he really hadn't thought he'd done anything else wrong since he'd gotten here.

"This!" Arthur screamed again grabbing the blanket from behind him, "This is what I mean!"

"A blanket? Artie, I won't touch your blanket next time. I'm sorry… I didn't know it was important to you or whatever." Alfred looked like he was starting to get angry now, or confused, maybe it was a mix of both.

"When?" Arthur asked, his anger growing.

"When what?" Alfred asked dumbfounded.

"When did you come back to the battlefield and lay this thing on me!" the denial that Alfred was putting out was starting to get really annoying.

"I… I...," Alfred's face was getting redder by the second. He looked down liked he was ashamed of himself, "It was probably about half an hour after you fell asleep…" he muttered quietly, his face burning.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Why didn't I…?" Alfred looked up quickly, "Are you kidding me! You would have stuck your musket right through me if I had gone back!"

Now it was Arthur's turn to be astonished, "You honestly think I would have tried to kill you?"

"Well you had tried earlier…" Alfred's face was almost like those tomatoes that Romano ate all the time, "I mean, you tried to kill me! What was I supposed to do? Walk up to you and say, 'hey England, you looked kind of cold' are you crazy? You hated me! But you looked like you were cold, and it was still raining, and your uniform was soaked through with water, I didn't want you to get hypothermia or anything like that!" Alfred was starting to ramble now, "I mean, I didn't hate you or anything! I just wanted you to see me as an equal! I wanted you to realize I wasn't your little brother anymore! It felt wrong! I couldn't call someone I had feelings for my older brother, you would have been disgusted with me!" once it was all out, Alfred clamped a hand over his mouth, obviously that last part wasn't supposed to have been said aloud.

"What…?" Arthur asked his eyes widening.

"I… I loved you… just in a different way then brothers…" Alfred trailed off looking at the floor.

Neither of them said anything, just sitting still until Alfred finally stood up, grabbed his jacket and started for the door. Arthur wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. Had Alfred honestly just confessed his love to Arthur?

"I can understand that you might be angry with me, but could you try not to hate me again…?" Alfred asked as he passed him. He was almost out the door when Arthur spoke again.

"How idiotic can you possibly be!" Arthur shouted.

Alfred stopped dead in his tracks, he looked mildly offended, "What?"

"You… you… I can't believe… agh!" Arthur yelled frustrated

"I'm not quite sure what you're trying to say Artie…" Alfred said a confused look plastered onto his face.

Arthur's face grew red, obviously he was getting no where with the American by using just his words, so instead he resorted to option number two, actions. In one swift motion, Arthur had grabbed the sleeve of Alfred's jacket and pulled him down towards him.

In all of a matter of seconds Arthur had seized Alfred's lips with his own. Arthur, taking the first step to initiate the kiss had thought he would dominate it as well, but he soon found out that Alfred was not one to just let someone dominate him.

Arthur was crushed in Alfred's arms, his mouth on his was frantic, but deep and passionate, it was obvious this wasn't the first time he had kissed someone, but it was also painfully aware that he hadn't done it often.

Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, trying to get some kind of leverage on the taller man. He moaned into the kiss as he felt Alfred's hands roaming over his back and waist, and then suddenly they settled on his backside. He let out a girly squeak but Alfred was already half carrying him back over to the loveseat.

Arthur felt his back being pressed down into the sofa softly as Alfred threw off the jacket he was wearing and went to work on the top buttons of Arthur's shirt. For a fleeting second, Arthur wondered if they were moving a little too fast, but then he felt the feathered kisses on his neck, and all his reasoning flew out the window.

The game for dominance was soon going. Both of their tongues were going at it, trying to gain some kind of dominance over the other. Arthur moaned, realizing he was going to get no where when Alfred had a hold on him like he did. In a last ditch effort to gain some kind of lead on the American, Arthur bucked his hips.

"Jesus!" Alfred yelled, clearly unprepared for the friction between the two.

"It's your fault." Arthur said breathily as he wrapped his legs slightly around Alfred's waist, he was suddenly aware of Alfred's growing problem. His face grew hot and he was sure it was getting red. He wasn't aware of the effect he had on the American.

Alfred all but gave up on trying to win control over Arthur's mouth, so he went to the task of getting his shirt off instead. After a few minutes of fumbling with the buttons, he gave up and did the only logical thing. He just tore it open.

"Alfred! I liked this shirt!"

"Yeah, and you have like twenty just like it." He muttered moving his mouth over the Brit's shoulder.

Alfred bit down on a piece of skin right between the crook of Arthur's neck and his shoulder. Giving little nips, he would go over it with soft feathered licks. Arthur groaned. He was going to have a hickey the size of Alaska on his neck. He would have stopped Alfred right then and there if it hadn't felt so damn good.

Somewhere in the frenzied kisses, the biting, and hip grinding, Alfred had lost his shirt, his belt, shoes, socks, and Arthur was currently going to work on getting his belt off of his trousers.

"What is with this blasted thing!" He yelled angrily trying to undo it.

Alfred laughed quietly, moving his hands and quickly undoing it himself, and moving his hands so they could occupy themselves with getting Arthur's pants off.

"Voila!" Alfred laughed as he slid the belt out of the loopholes in Arthur's pants, it wasn't two seconds later before Alfred's hands had found themselves gliding over Arthur's hardening erection, gently at first, and then suddenly fast and frenzied.

"A-Alfred!" England moaned out loudly, this was too much in a second he was going to push the blue-eyed man down into the loveseat, which was incredibly uncomfortable by the way, and take him right then and there. And just as Alfred as removing his own in the way pants, there was a loud thump.

"Angleterre! I heard my beautiful language being butchered, and I thought I would come here to…" Francis stopped, one foot in the doorway, "Oh ho ho what do we have here?" a wide grin spread out across his face.

Arthur knew someone up there had it out for him. He knew it.

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I've failed you guys... :(

I kind of chickend out on the last paragraph OTL

Please review...?


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